


Fateful False Alarm

by Inkblooded_Witch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 01:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8513230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkblooded_Witch/pseuds/Inkblooded_Witch
Summary: Dean isn't thrilled when a fire alarm goes off at three in the morning, leaving him to stand outside with the rest of the tenants in his boxers for an hour. As unpleasant as the whole ordeal is, though, there is an upside. Namely one who has a penchant for bumblebee pajamas. Mini one-shot. Desitel fluff.





	

    He was wearing bumblebee pajamas. For some reason that just made him even more appealing. Dean wanted to kick himself, but it was true. Damn it he was so whipped it was pathetic. And he'd never really even talked to the guy, either.

    Dean had been sound asleep, just like everyone else, when some idiot set of the fire alarm in their apartment building. Now they were all standing around outside, waiting for the fire fighters to clear the building. They'd found the apartment on the second floor that had burned something in the oven, but they were being thorough. Dean probably wouldn't have minded so much if he wasn't standing around in his boxers at four in the morning. The only good thing about all this was that it had also driven his next door neighbor outside with the rest of them. The very same guy Dean had been crushing on like some teenager for the last three months.

    The other residence were wandering around or dozing as they sat on benches, most of them in pajamas or underwear. One poor guy was naked save for the shock blanket a sympathetic EMT had given him. Dean was just glad he'd had the luck to absently grab a clean pair before going to bed that night, not one of his rattier older pairs or the pair covered with Batman logos. It was August still, so they weren't exactly shivering, a minor blessing. Dean himself was standing by a tree standing between the building and the back parking lot, where he had a good view of the nearest bench and the doors should they come out to give the all clear.

    There wasn't anything special about that particular bench. He was more interested in who was on it. Namely a young man roughly his age with tousled black hair and blue eyes that kept drifting shut, his head nodding as he fought to stay awake. He seemed completely oblivious to the couple he shared a bench with, who were occupying themselves via make out session while they waited. He'd shuffled out along with everyone else, but once things had calmed down he'd gotten very drowsy very fast. It was oddly endearing, not unlike his choice of sleepwear. Namely a pair of matching pants and short sleeved night shirt, light blue covered with little bumblebees and dotted trails.

    Dean was starting to feel drowsy himself when the couple finally decided to move elsewhere. He perked up, watching as they stood, making their way towards the parking lot. Seeing his chance, Dean moved forward, dropping down onto the small bench before someone else could. He glanced over at Castiel, who's head was still nodding as he fought to stay awake. That was his name, Castiel. No, he wasn't a stalker, he'd just seen the tag on the button downstairs, where people had to buzz up to get through the inner, secondary door. Castiel Novak.

    Deciding it was high time to initiate some sort of contact, Dean cleared his throat and suggested, "If you wanna sleep then sleep."

    Castiel started, his head snapping up. Wide blue eyes turned on him, blinking rapidly. "What?"

    "Why are you trying so hard to stay awake?"

    "Oh. I don't want to fall asleep out here."

    "Why not? Looks like it might be a while."

    "I know."

    Dean waited. He was suddenly aware of an unseen perk of being stuck in his underwear. Namely the fact that Castiel seemed very aware of it. Once Dean had started talking to him the drowsiness had fled, and those cobalt eyes kept glancing furtively down as they'd had their exchange. Now he seemed to be very focused on the ground. Pleased, and encouraged, he decided to keep going.

    "So we spend an hour out here because some idiot forgot they had a meatloaf in the oven?"

    "It would seem so." Castiel sighed, adding, "Meatloaf isn't even good. It's hardly worth this."

    "What're you talking about? Meatloaf is awesome."

    "Everyone has their own tastes. Meatloaf simply isn't to mine. I never understood the appeal." Smothering a yawn he complained, "Why did they choose to do this the one night of solid sleep I get this week?"

    "All-nighters?"

    "Yes. A coworker was absurdly incompetent. Now not only do we have to take his workload we have to redo every account he's touched in a year. It's exhausting."

    "Wait, what is it you do exactly?"

    "Accounting. I know it's stereotypically boring, but it's a very delicate department. You can't screw with them."

    Dean's eyebrows shot up. Not what he expected from what had appeared to be a somewhat eccentric yet highly attractive neighbor. It did sound boring, and Dean would rather eat nails than sit at a desk running numbers all day, but Castiel seemed to take it very seriously.

    Before he could try a better conversation route than meatloaf and all-nighters, two firefighters tramped the back door, taking off their helmets. One of them came over to the group of waiting people, calling, "All clear! It's all clear. You can go back inside."

    Castiel got to his feet with a groan, stretching his arms and yawning. Dean did the same, appreciating how the short pajama top rose several inches to expose a toned midriff as he did. He straightened slowly, watching as Castiel started back towards the door. For the second time in as many minutes, someone beat Dean to the punch before he could think of something to say.

    Two paces away Castiel stopped and looked back at him, an uncertain look on his face. "Your name is Dean, correct?"

    "Uh, yeah."

    "Would you, um, do you like coffee?"

    "Yeah, I like coffee." He perked up, seeing where this was going.

    "There's a cafe on river street. Would you like to meet with me, for coffee? Um, not tomorrow, I might fall asleep on you but...maybe sometime next week?"

    Dean grinned. "Awesome. I'm right next door, just knock the next time you're not sleep deprived."

    Castiel cracked a tiny, rueful smile, then turned back towards the building. Dean felt a wide grin spread across his own face. Suddenly it was worth getting yanked out of bed to spend an hour outside in his underwear.


End file.
